


day*1. There Were Two

by eloveated



Series: SUNGWOON*WEEK [1]
Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 08:05:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15138773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloveated/pseuds/eloveated
Summary: in which dowoon eventually must choose a place to stay; between two locations... two time periods... and two intriguing men.





	day*1. There Were Two

**Author's Note:**

> Heyoooo~ :) Sungwoon is one of those ships that you just gotta love ;3 So I’m gonna try my best to improve my writing and bring in some content yeee <3 Hope everyone has a nice week!

The welcome buzz of ancient freight cars rattling along steel railroad tracks and people mulling around in the whistling, steam-powered trains stopping at the station filled Dowoon’s ears. He sighed out.

Ten years had gone by since he’d last been here. He knew because of the tracking pad on his charm – the charm which brought him both misery and serenity at once. The way it was tied to him was both a curse and a blessing, all because of the terrible mixture of rights and responsibilities it granted him. You see… Dowoon could travel by area, by year… But it wasn’t just a ‘could:’ he **had** to. If he didn’t travel to at least three different time periods and locations a day… Well, he was screwed. His head would break open like a watermelon encased in a bear trap and the searing headache would last for the rest of the next day. He knew from experience. So it became a habit of his: go to the Busan Trot Eumban Gage in 1924 in the early morning, listen to some old-fashioned trot records, beat on some drums, get that morning kick of coffee at the corner store, and go to the seojeom with all its history books lined up on the shelves at the back if he had time to spare; later in the morning, travel to Incheon in 2004 to go to school, feel his eyelids droop in fatigue while the main teacher droned on and on about maths equations and how important they were to modern society, yet sit up during history class, alert, and (meaninglessly) run away from all the girls chasing him to be in solitude; and, finally, in the evening, go to a random place in a random time period he had heard about in history class that day or read about in the seojeom, walk around if he still had the energy to explore, and then collapse on a hotel bed with droopy eyes and a feeling of dread for the repetition awaiting him the next day. To say the least, his life wasn’t too great. At least he was blessed enough to have a support and a place to stay, Dowoon tried to remind himself. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t miss his parents and his relatives, the ones who were no longer with him. All of them were gone… and it hurt that he remembered everything, though he was only four years old when his life went awry. He was alone in the world, with only history as company. And that really sucked. Now he was back at the place where the cycle began, walking along with the flow of people.

Busan Grand Station…

Ten years had done little to faze the fourteen-year-old’s memory: Dowoon knew the place like the back of his hand – its elegant carved-marble floors, its tile-covered pillars, its bustling crowds and old-fashioned signs. His feet carried him in the direction of the train leading to Daegu. With each timid footfall, the black-haired boy felt ant-trails travel up from the soles of his dusty Oxford-clad feet and spread to his elbows, then harshly hit his head with spikes of nostalgia and deja-vu. He walked past an elderly woman being led along the walkway by a boy. He walked past a woman carrying a basket of flowers; a smile was spread over her face, colored red like the flowers adorning her arms. He walked past a girl with a brown satchel schoolbag and a red handkerchief carefully looped around her neck who looked as if she was running away from somebody. He sighed. The train’s enormous iron clock rang out 8:45. Dowoon had fifteen minutes to spare.

Soon enough, he looked up at the entrance to a freight car. It seemed empty unlike all the others making their way into the station. This one led to Daegu, it seemed – exactly what he needed. As his hand securely gripped the railing and his feet carried him up the steep set of stairs leading to the inside of the car, he was met by a warm voice with a rasp at the bottom. “Jeo gee yo — you over there! Ya have a ticket to board?”

The heavy satoori of his youth filled Dowoon’s entire being with ease, as if he was floating through a field of clouds. He looked up to see a neat-looking young man greeting him from beside the gaping entrance, politely offering his hand to receive Dowoon’s ticket. _What a big nose he has…_ Dowoon quickly shook himself out of his thoughts and stepped onto the main landing of the railroad car so he could dust off his striped dress pants and reach inside his pocket. “Ah… Yep, yes I do.”

The man’s enormous eyes crinkled in a smile and he wiggled his fingers a bit as a signal to hand them over. As Dowoon dug the rumpled sheet out of his pocket and extended them to the conductor, he observed the man. Hair heavily slicked back with gel, already beginning to let strands fall loose over his eyes, which gleamed with a beautiful sheen that made them look even bigger than they actually were, a big nose which stood out like a doorbell, sparse hairs decorating his upper lip, as if his razor broke before he could shave that morning, but not doing his features any harm, thin lips slightly pursed with that classic Busan charm, thick cheeks which brought out his masculine neck and stocky shoulders, a suit and tie spread over his upper body, neatly ironed and matching the hat lying near his feet… As the conductor brought a fountain pen out of his uniform pocket to mark Dowoon’s ticket in a gesture of approval, the fourteen-year-old crouched down to retrieve the fallen hat from the dusty floor. The conductor looked up from the ticket as Dowoon held the hat out to him with curious eyes, scanning the man for his reaction. “Ah, thank you.”

Their fingers brushed, and Dowoon swore a breeze flew through the door at that moment, because a chill crept up his neck and his bangs swayed over his shivering eyes. “N’problem.”

The close-lipped smile sent his way gave Dowoon a feeling of déjà vu. Had he seen this man before somewhere? Was there any way he had a placard or something else with which the boy could get his name? _Or wait… Could it be that—_

“Right this way.” The conductor shook the boy out of his thoughts, and he followed the man whose hat now sat over his combed-back hair in an authoritative and familiar way. “Feel free to sit anywhere ya’d like. Train’s not packed at this time of day… Imperial Japanese showcases start up in Daegu city in ‘bout two hours. That where you goin’?”

Dowoon shook his head. He just wanted to sit and look out the window for a while. Maybe the scenery passing by would do him some good.

“I see. Here’s your ticket. Ya can use it three more times.”

The boy grasped the ticket in his hand just as the train released a loud whistle of warning. “The train will be leavin’ in two minutes,” the conductor informed him.

“Good.”

“Would you like anything to eat or drink?”

Dowoon thought for a second. Maybe if he ordered something, this man would keep him company. And maybe then he could finally figure out who he was and why he seemed so dang familiar. “Some mineral water, thanks.”

“Comin’ right up!”

The conductor sent him a smile and walked back to the entrance to the train car, where a waiter was perched with a cart. While he waited for his drink, Dowoon got comfortable. He fixed his rumpled pants and shifted until he could look out the window in ease. His water soon arrived, and he politely thanked the waiter after slipping him the proper amount of money. The boy soon found refuge in sipping on the cool drink and looking out the window with his head balanced on his palm… It had been a long time since he’d last been able to relax and just look out at the world without having to physically go anywhere. The iron station clock read 8:50. He had ten minutes left before he had to leave for school. The train whistled again; still the conductor did not come over. There was a yell to signal that the train was setting off. But even as the train began to pull away from the station with the loud squealing of wheels and the monstrous turning of engines, there was no sign of the conductor from before. Had he stepped off the train? One set of pillars passed, then another.

“Mind if I join ya?”

Dowoon looked up to see the man from before. Finally. “Not at all.”

The boy made way for the conductor to sit beside him and took another sip from his cup. “Y’ look young. Student, are ya?”

“I am.”

“Why arencha in school, then?”

“Missed my train.”

A low hum followed, then a laugh. “But where’s your uniform?”

Dowoon’s ears tinted red. “Dunno.”

There was another laugh. “Yah! Students haveta study to improve their memory and basic knowledge! What have they been teaching ya in school?!”

“Algorithms?”

“Ya mean they’re teachin’ you how to be a machine?” the stranger chuckled out while crossing his legs.

“I guess…” Dowoon gingerly tapped his fingers on his glass and huffed out a tired breath. “I don’t think they like us students very much.”

“They?”

“Our teachers.” Dowoon’s lips twitched upwards as he thought of one teacher, however. “Except Park Sungjin-sansaengnim. He actually teaches us about interesting things and cares ‘bout our progress and our opinions.”

The conductor’s eyes lit up. “Ah! M’name’s Park Sungjin as well! What a coincidence!”

Dowoon’s heart stopped. He took another look at the man beside him, his scrutinizing eyes widening as he realized just why the man seemed so familiar.

That big nose.

Those beautiful eyes.

That charming half-lipped grin.

…

It was him for sure. But… But how? A nervous chuckle left his throat and he took another sip of mineral water. “Ah… Jinja? What a coincidence, indeed…”

“And what’s **your** name, ya?”

“Yoon Dowoon.”

“Ah, wonderful name.”

Dowoon grunted.

They sat in silence for a while, the scenery passing them by. It was a comfortable sort of stillness broken only by the sounds of the wind whistling past the window and the train’s wheels hitting the tracks and the gears turning and the steam blowing out the pipe at the top and the small coughs Sungjin gave out sometimes. The comfortable silence got Dowoon thinking. Why had he gone to the station, again? It was the ten-year anniversary of his family’s doom… _Ah, that’s why._ He had wanted to see the place where his parents and other relatives were blown away in a train bombing, because he was tired of being scared. He was tired of being scared of and intimidated by his past, so he came to the train station where it all happened. Where everything in his life went awry. Where he had been forgotten on the platform at four years old, where he had ran after the train, tears coursing down his eyes and falling from his chin, where he had witnessed the train explode when some fucking fanatic tried to ‘blow the japs to pieces,’ where only Korean citizens had died thanks to the last-minute changes in the schedule for the imperial Japanese showcases taking place in Daegu that day. Dowoon had all the time in the world to be bitter, but he chose to let it go. It had to happen to somebody… And unfortunately, he’d been the one this time. It was fucking unfair, but he lived with it. He had to – there was no other choice.

Dowoon looked out the window at the passing landscape when a cold sensation of dread suddenly encased his shoulders. _How long have I been sitting here?_ “Sorry… Sungjin-ssi, what time is it?”

The conductor reached into his pocket and pulled out a brass pocket watch. “9:30. Why?”

 _Shit_. “’M late for school.”

“But you don’ even have your uniform or your schoolbag. What’s the use?”

Dowoon slumped forward and wrung his hands through his hair. “I’ll miss the lesson on the siege of Leningrad…”

“The what now?”

Dowoon went cold once more. _Shit; World War II hasn’t happened yet!_ “Oh, nothing, nothing ‘t all. I’m just gonna be missin’ out on an important history lesson.”

“Oh… What a shame.” Sungjin tipped his hat back and pushed some stray strands of dark hair away from his handsome brow before replacing it atop his head. “How about ya tell me about your lesson from yester—”

“That wasn’t an interesting one!” The student burst out, immediately bowing to make up for his rude outburst. “Mn… Let me tell you about one of my favorites instead, Sungjin-ssi! It’s way more interesting!”

Sungjin willed his eyes to go back to normal and hid his confusion behind a nod. “Sure. ‘M up for anythin’… So long as it’s interestin’.”

The time-traveling boy heaved a sigh of relief and hid his smile with a bite of his lip. “This is one of Sungjin-sansaeng-nim’s favorites… And one of mine.”

 

*

 

Sungjin walked around his classroom, eyeing the students up. He had asked them to take out their history books so he could begin his lesson for the day, and while they were shuffling through their bags in search of the appropriate pamphlet, the teacher took attendance. There was Kang Young Hyun with his characteristic drowsy lips spread into a yawn. There was Im Na Yeon with her mischievous smile and exploring hands. There was his nephew, Kim Won Pil, picking on Park Jae Hyung as always. And yet… the student his eyes were subconsciously searching for was definitely not there. Yoon Do Woon was nowhere to be found. _No wonder the girls seem quieter than usual, today_ , the jittery teacher thought to himself. As soon as all the books were out and turned to page 230, the teacher began his lesson on the siege of Leningrad – the lesson which his star student had been looking forward to ever since he mentioned it the week prior.

 

*

 

Dowoon stepped out of the train, waving a last farewell to Sungjin, whom he had gotten to know better after hours upon hours of talking. The man was waving back at him, tirelessly wagging his hand from side to side even as the train began to pull away from the platform and into the distance. “Don’ miss school again!” was barely audible over the sound of the train’s motion and whistles, making the boy’s mouth twitch into a smile. “Come visit me when you’re free!” His own hand restlessly shifted from side to side until the enormous machine carried the familiar conductor out of sight. Then the boy’s hand reached for the straps of his suspenders, where the charm hung that morning. He felt around the straps, his eyes still looking for a sign of the train in the distance. It was merely a speck on the horizon by now, but he imagined it rushing back to him so he could stay and talk to Sungjin for forever. The fantasy faded as his fingers were met only by coarse cloth no matter how many times he tugged at his suspenders. Panic set in and he frantically looked down, patted around his clothing, checked his pockets, the area around him on the station – nothing. The charm was gone.

Dowoon desperately ran in the direction the train had gone in, yelling, forgetting to breathe and feel the fatigue setting into his legs until he collapsed on the empty station. He heaved in ashy air as he blinked tears out of his eyes.

     He was stuck in 1924.

 

*

 

Sungjin swept the train car he was responsible for, a smile adorning his face. The broom suddenly struck something and the object it had hit flew into the steel portion of a seat with a soft clang. The curious conductor kneeled down and picked the object up. He brought it to his eyes to inspect it: a rabbit charm he had never seen the likes of before. _Must be foreign._ The man twirled it around in his hand and tilted his head to the side. _What an interesting toy…_

 

     Meanwhile, Sungjin was sitting at his desk, grading papers while his students took a short break. “Ahem. Sungjin-sansaeng-nim…”

The teacher looked up from his papers to see that Wonpil was standing before him with his hands behind his back. “Hello, Wonpil-ah. What is it that you want?”

The boy brought a fist out from behind his back and held it out to Sungjin. “I found this under Dowoonie’s desk; I thought I should bring it over to you.”

The black-haired man set down his pen and reached out to take whatever it was his nephew was giving him. It was the infamous rabbit charm the teacher had often seen Dowoon twiddling with. “Ah… Thank you, Pirrie.”

“No problem, sansaeng-nim!”

And as the boy rushed off in the direction of his friends, Sungjin turned the charm over in his hand. _What is it doing here if Dowoon is not in class today? Did it appear out of nowhere or something? Can’t be…_ The teacher shook his thoughts away and got back to grading the papers neatly stacked atop his desk so he would finish his work before the break ended.


End file.
